


Whatever It Takes

by highladycasandra



Series: The Greatest [2]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: A Court of Thorns and Roses - Freeform, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Hockey, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Skating, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Crossover, F/F, F/M, Heartache, Hockey, Slow Burn, Throne of Glass, crossover before really only for 2 chapters, figure skating, i suck at tags btw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 01:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12332814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highladycasandra/pseuds/highladycasandra
Summary: Nesta firmly believes that if you want something, you have to work your ass off for it. And she wants a National title attached to her name. But when her coach decides that a change in skating discipline is what Nesta needs, she’s far from impressed. Now, instead of training as a ladies single skater, she has to switch gears and skate as a pairs skater. And her partner? Someone she can’t stand. Non other than cocky, flirtatious, former Men’s skater Cassian.Dark secrets are revealed. Patience is tested. And both Cassian and Nesta have to learn what it really means to open up and let people in. If not, it may actually cost them a National title. Not to mention their figure skating careers.**Spin-off to We Are Young**





	1. Prologue

Nesta was pissed.

Actually no. Pissed would be an understatement.

She was seething at that point. Seething with pure, white-hot rage.

She should have been down there, standing on that podium. She should have been smiling at the crowd as they cheered and clapped. She should have been one of the three women getting medals placed around their necks and flowers handed to them. She worked hard. She was one of the most amazing skaters in the country. She should be down there. Not up above, watching from the stands.

Leaning against the railing on crossed arms, Nesta’s narrowed eyes moved across the three skaters on top of the podium.

Somehow in burning hell, Kaltain Rompier had managed to skate into third place. Nesta didn’t understand it. Somehow that bitch had managed to knock her out of third in the long program. Probably overscored, Nesta figured. Or maybe she fucked one of the judges for all Nesta knew. It wouldn’t have surprised her.

Others would say Nesta hadn’t had a bad skate. It was a good one. She had skated just like she did at Sectionals. But to Nesta, that meant she may as well have not skated at all.

Skating as good as she did at Sectionals wasn’t enough. She placed first at Sectionals, but that meant nothing at Nationals. She was supposed to skate better than her best. And because of the stumble in her footwork and the two-footed landing on her triple flip, Nesta didn’t even skate her best.

Thinking about it just added to her fire.

Standing in second place was Mor. She flashed her million-watt smile up at the crowd as she waved her flowers in the air. Seeing that just made Nesta’s brows knit tighter together. Deep down, she knew she should be happy for her teammate, but she wasn’t. Her rage overpowered what little happiness she had.

In her opinion, she had worked harder than Mor. Harder than most of the girls at the competition. And what did she get in return? Fourth fucking place.  

The judges may as well have put her in last.

Nesta drew in a sharp breath through her nose as her eyes made their way to the top of the podium. She took in the high and mighty queen standing there. A gold medal around her neck and tears sparkling on her cheeks. The sight had Nesta rolling her eyes.

Sure, Aelin Galathynius skated a good routine. It was powerful and emotional. And as bad as it was, the fact that her best friend was in the hospital at that moment just added the icing to the cake. Audiences loved a good heartbreak story, especially when they watched someone come out on top because of said heartache.

And okay, Aelin had definitely skated better at Nationals than she had at Sectionals. But that fact only made Nesta more irritated.

The air suddenly shifted. Nesta’s back went rod straight as the crowd around her cheered once more. She knew he was standing there without needing to turn around. He had that effect on her and she hated it.

“You know, you’re not displaying good sportsmanship right now,” Cassian drawled, leaning against the railing next to Nesta. “Glaring at your fellow skaters with that look of hatred and all.”

Nesta clenched her fists tightly. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with Cassian on any normal given day. Let alone a day like today.

“Fuck sportsmanship,” she said through clenched teeth. “Now leave me alone before I burn your balls off.”

Cassian simply chuckled, which irritated Nesta even more.

“It’s good to know that not making the podium didn’t put a damper on your mood, Nes.”

Sarcasm laced Cassian’s every word. It took everything in her not to punch him in his smug face.

Nesta didn’t reply. Her jaw was locked tight, teeth clenched together so hard it hurt. She normally wouldn’t mind ripping Cassian’s throat out. But they were in public and there were cameras everywhere. She didn’t need to be kicked out of next years Nationals before that one even ended.

Surprisingly, Cassian didn’t say anything for a little while. He simply stood next to her as Nesta glared daggers at the girls standing side-by-side for a group picture.

Cassian sighed deeply.

“Just so you know-”

Nesta had known the silence was too good to last.

Cassian stood up straighter, turning around to face Nesta completely. She moved her heated gaze away from the ice to meet his hazel eyes.

“You deserve to be down there.” He said, nodding towards the ice.

The words were probably supposed to give her some comfort. But they did just the opposite. Red clouded her vision as she pushed herself off the railing. Fury cut through her as she glared up at Cassian.

“I know.”

Her voice only held hate and venom as she spoke. She stood there for a moment longer, holding Cassian’s gaze as the crowd cheered around her before she walked right past him.

He had no right, no right whatsoever, to say that to her. To talk to her like she was some sad, heartbroken girl. Like she was going to cry herself to sleep that night because she got fourth place.

She didn’t need someone telling her she deserved to be on the podium. Especially not Cassian. Because she knew that better than anyone.

She worked hard year-round. Day in and day out. She had been skating since she was four years old. She worked her ass off for 18 years. And she still had yet to get higher than third place at Nationals.

Nesta took in a breath, fists clenched and eyes blazing. She marched through the hoards of people with a look of pure determination on her face.

Next year, she would be standing on that podium.

Next year, she would have a medal around her neck and flowers in her hand.

She would crawl, burn, and claw her way to the top if she had to. She didn’t care. She’d do whatever it took.

And she would destroy everything in her wake to get there.


	2. “Meet your new skating partner.”

Nesta pulled her laces tight, tying a bow at the top. She stood up, bending slightly at the ankles to make sure her skates were nice and snug. When she was satisfied, she sat back on the bench, leaning against the wall.

She normally wasn’t one to be tired at early morning practice. She’d trained her body over the years to follow a strict schedule. She went to bed at ten every night and woke up at four in morning, giving her exactly six hours of sleep. When she was up, she went about the same routine Monday through Saturday. Early morning practice, off-ice practice, gym workout or ballet class, another on-ice practice, then home for bed. She had followed that schedule for most of her skating career.

Yet, she couldn’t help but feel the exhaustion set in on her shoulders that particular morning, making her eyes droop and her limbs feel heavy.

To say practice had been hell lately would be an understatement. Nesta pushed herself harder than she ever had before. After Nationals, she took about a week off before she put herself back on her intense schedule once more.

If you want something, they have to work your ass off for it. And Nesta wanted a National title attached to her name.

Practices were intense, brutal. Just the way Nesta liked them. But that didn’t make them any less frustrating.

She decided very early on that if she was going to beat Aelin Galathynius next year - along with every other skater in her category - she was going to have to add a triple-triple combination to her routine. Of course, skaters didn’t  _necessarily_  need triple-triple combos to beat out the competition. If they didn’t land the jump, it would do them more harm than good. But Aelin Galathynius had nailed her triple-lutz triple-toe. Therefore, Nesta had to one up her.

So she added a triple-flip triple-loop to her routine.

A dangerous combination. Triple loops were hard to get right. They were normally always marked as under-rotated. Which was what made Nesta pick that jump.

If she landed it, she had no doubt she would take that National title.

The only problem was that, though she had been training and working on the jump for months, she still had yet to get it right, which caused her to leave practice more and more irritated every day.

But Nesta didn’t believe in ifs. There was no  _if_  she would land it. Only  _when_  she would land it. Because she  _would_  land that jump. She didn’t care how much she had to push and crawl to get there.

Running a tired hand over her face, Nesta pushed herself up off of the bench once more.

She was Nesta Archeron. She was a fighter, a winner. She had to push through the exhaustion and work just as hard as she did every day.

Pulling her slick ponytail tight, Nesta took in a deep breath. A look of pure determination clouded her features as she picked her water bottle up and marched through the door.

The crisp air of the old stadium welcomed her the moment she left the dressing room. There were only a few skaters on the ice at that hour of the morning. Not like they had many skaters at the Velaris Starlight Figure Skating Club. They were definitely one of the smaller clubs in the country. Which made getting ice time easier.

Nesta took off her skate guards. As she did so, her narrowed eyes spotted Mor starting her warm-ups. The two shared a quick nod, but nothing more. Practices weren’t for socializing - not for Nesta. Still, she couldn’t help but notice that the ice felt almost too big. As if one missing body made a huge difference. It was still an odd sight, not seeing Elain on the ice.

There were a few other skaters on the ice. However, Nesta no more than glanced at them as she stepped onto the slick glossy surface.

It was like someone had flicked on her autopilot. The moment her blades touched the ice, Nesta was locked in her own little bubble. Her blades carried her as if they had a mind of their own. She went through her warm-up routine without so much as a second thought. She did all the moves she knew like the back of her hand, warming and loosening up her body, getting herself ready for another intense, body-breaking practice.

Twenty minutes later, Nesta glided across the ice. She pulled her leg up over her head, stretching out her thigh muscles, before moving onto the next leg. She did a few more stretches before she made her way to the boards. She kicked her leg up, resting her head against her knee. And damn her, because as she was reaching for her toes, she couldn’t do anything to stop a yawn from escaping her mouth.

Nesta wanted to rip out her own hair for letting the exhaustion get to her like that. Even more so when she heard a pair of blades glide to a stop next to her. Followed by a dark, fluid, male voice.

“I should make you do laps and some push-ups in the middle of the ice for that yawn.”

Nesta switched legs without so much as a glance over her shoulder.

“But you won’t,” she stated, resting her head against her knee as she counted out her stretch.

“You sound certain of that, Ms. Archeron.”

A ten count passed by where no one said anything. Then, Nesta lowered her leg and turned around, coming face to face with her coach.

“That’s because I  _am_  certain of that,” she said simply, stretching her arm across her chest.

Coach Carver raised a dark eyebrow. That cool expression was forever present on his handsome face. With his mop of stylish dark hair and eyes so brown they appeared black, his skin looked paler than it actually was, which caused him to look even scarier to any passerbys. Even his smiles were wicked, almost humorous. He walked and skated with this ancient aura around him, as if he was older than he seemed. As if he belonged in another world.

And maybe he did. He was one of the best skaters to come out of Valeris after all, along with Coach Suriel. Both had Olympic titles to their names.

Which was why Nesta picked him for her coach. He was brutal, unforgiving. He did everything, no matter the measure, to make sure his skaters were the best they could be. No excuse was good enough for him. He pushed. Stretching the muscles until they grew several inches. Bending bones until they suited his needs.

That was how he got his nickname after all - the Bone Carver.

Coach Carver raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow.

“Watch your tongue, Ms. Archeron.” That deadly smile appeared on his face, as if he knew her deepest secrets. “It may get you in trouble some day. If it hasn’t already, that is.”

Nesta couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Coach Carver was also way too dramatic for his own damn good.

“Can we get on with this?” Her face was hard. “I have a jump to land, and we’re already twenty minutes into practice.”

“I wanted to talk to you first, actually.”

Nesta waited, forever impatient, as Coach Carver clasped his hands behind his back. He didn’t speak for a few short moments. He simply stared at her as if he was trying to see into her mind, which only raised Nesta’s temper.

“Can we make it quick, then?” She tried not to snap, but she didn’t succeed. She had a routine to perfect, and even her own damn Coach was doing nothing but wasting her time.

Coach Carver stared at her for a heartbeat longer before he finally spoke.

“When I tell you this, Ms. Archeron, I think it’s best you keep in mind that  _I’m_  your coach. I know what’s best and have never lead  _any_  of my skaters wrong before.” Those dark pools bore into Nesta’s very soul as Coach Carver slowly spoke. “And before you decide to open that smart-ass mouth of yours, you should also keep in mind that, unlike you, I have an Olympic title to my name. So I would think twice before you talk back to me.”

Harsh words, they both knew it. But they worked, just like Coach Carver knew they would. Nesta found herself clenching her jaw, nodding slowly.

She couldn’t stop a chill from running down her spine. A chill that had nothing to do with the bitter stadium air. Nesta knew that whatever Coach Carver was about to say was going to be damn serious.

“You’re a good skater Nesta Archeron. There’s no doubting that,” he said. “But even the best skaters need to be pushed out of their comfort zones to become the best of the best.”

Nesta narrowed her steely eyes. “I’m already pushing for a triple-flip triple-loop. How much more out of my comfort zone could I get?”

Coach Carver shot her a warning glare, causing Nesta’s mouth to snap shut. Even she knew when not to cross her coach.

But she couldn’t help but notice that there was also a challenging look in his eyes. And was that amusement?

“I think you need a change in discipline.”

No beating around the bush then.

Nesta blinked. She stared back at her coach with a blank expression, the words not fully registering in her head.

“You want me to change my skating discipline.” Her words were slow, as if she were trying to understand them. “What? Ladies’ skating to Men’s skating?”

There was  _definitely_  amusement shining in Coach Carver’s eyes as his lips pulled up in the corner.

“Not exactly. Despite how interesting that would be,” he said, putting his gloved hands in his coat pockets. “You’re going to skate Pairs.”

A beat passed where no one spoke. Nesta could heard the sounds of blades and yelling behind her, but it all blew past her.

Then, she smiled. A laugh bubbled out of her lips.

“Yeah, right,” Nesta shook her head. “Even you aren’t crazy enough to switch a skater’s discipline just 2 months before the first competition of the season.”

“Regionals hardly counts as a competition for you,” Coach Carver waved her off. “And I am very serious Ms. Archeron. You are going to be skating Pairs from now on.”

The smile slipped off Nesta’s face. A shiver ran through her as she narrowed her eyes.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” It took everything in her not to yell. “This is completely stupid and ridiculous! What good is switching disciplines going to do me at this point?”

Coach Carver actually had the nerve to sigh. As if he was tired of her already today.

“Do you have a National title to your name?” Coach Carver stated bluntly. When Nesta didn’t say anything, he continued. “You’ve been skating competitively for eight years now and the closest you’ve come to that title is third place two years ago. So clearly, Ladies isn’t doing you any good.”

“And you think Pairs will?”

Venom laced Nesta’s every word, but Coach Carver simply nodded.

“I do.”

“I’ve never even skated Pairs before,” she felt the need to point out.

“It’s not as hard as you would think, especially not for you, who has been skating for eighteen years. Plus, your partner is also a very skilled skater. Someone else with lots of years-”

Nesta held up her hand. By the look on Coach Carver’s face, she could tell he wasn’t too impressed. But she didn’t care. Not one bit.

“You said  _partner_.” Her brows pinched together as she spoke. “You already got me a partner?”

“Of course.” Coach almost sounded offend. But then he looked over Nesta’s shoulder, beckoning someone forward. “And here he is now.”

Before Nesta even had a chance to think about who she had seen on the ice that morning, a pair of blades glided to a stop next to her and Coach Carver.

“Nesta Archeron -” the amusement shining purely on Coach Carver’s face now was unbearable - “Meet your new skating partner.”

If Nesta was irritated before, she was definitely raging now.

Of all the people her coach could have chosen,  _Cassian_  stood next to her. His shoulder-length dark hair was pulled back messily. Those piercing hazel eyes locked on her. His rough features caught the bright rink light, and there was an ever-present smirk on his lips. Just the sight had Nesta’s blood boiling. Her jaw locked as her fists clenched.

“No.”

Her voice was dangerously low, cutting off whatever Cassian was about to say, his mouth snapping shut.

“No,” she repeated, turning to Coach Carver with fire in her eyes. “This is fucking ridiculous. First you want me to change my discipline. Now, you want me to work with  _him_? You’ve actually lost your mind.”

Coach Carver’s eyes flashed. “Watch your tongue, Nesta Archeron.”

“I’m not skating Pairs. And even if I was, I’m definitely not skating with  _him_.” Nesta’s voice was cold as she pushed her blades backward. “Either I skate Ladies or I don’t skate at all.”

“Then I guess this is goodbye.”

A part of Nesta knew she should stop and think about her next move carefully. But she was too blinded by rage to think straight. The cold look Coach Carver was giving her, along with the raised eyebrow from Cassian, only fueled her fire.

“I guess it is,” she snapped.

Then, Nesta did something she had never done in her whole skating career.

She skated off of the ice in the middle of practice.

——————–

When Nesta stomped into their small house hours later, she was still fuming with rage.

It didn’t help that everyone was  _conveniently_  home that night. Something that was very rare for the Archeron household.

That fact did little to calm the fire burning deep within Nesta.

“Did you know about this?”

Feyre blinked as she looked up from the book she was reading at the breakfast bar. The fact she was home at all surprised Nesta, though she didn’t show it. Feyre was usually always out with her skating partner slash boyfriend Rhys, and his inner circle of friends. Friends that included Cassian. Which was exactly why Nesta made a beeline for her youngest sister.

“About what?” Feyre’s stormy eyes narrowed at Nesta.

“About Coach Carver completely losing his mind and wanting me to skate Pairs with Cassian  _fucking_ Guerrero.”

Elain, who was standing across from Feyre cutting up vegetables, paused. Her knife froze mid-cut as she looked up at Nesta.

“What?”

“I didn’t know any of this,” Feyre shook her head, surprise coating her own features. “And if Rhys did, he didn’t tell me.”

“Coach Carver can’t be serious though, right?” Elain asked. “Changing someone’s discipline this close to the start of-”

“He’s fucking serious all right.” Nesta’s words came out harsher than she meant them to as she cut off Elain, but she couldn’t help it.

“Maybe this isn’t a bad thing,” Feyre shrugged. “Coach Carver must know what he’s doing, or else he wouldn’t have brought up the discipline change in the first place.”

Nesta’s gaze turned hard as it flicked to Feyre, her words fueling the fire. Even though what Feyre said was true.

“Coach Carver shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place,” Nesta snapped. “Just because Pairs ended up working out  _splendidly_  for you doesn’t mean it’s that way for everyone else.”

Feyre’s gaze clashed with Nesta’s. Two pairs of the same stormy eyes meeting, neither one backing down. Just like it always was. Because Nesta and Feyre, they were two sides of the same coin. Too similar to get along and too different to understand one another.

It was so quiet, so intense in the room, Nesta didn’t even notice the footsteps coming from the hallway until they stopped.

“Ah Nesta. I didn’t realize you were home.”

As if the day couldn’t get any fucking worse.

Feyre’s heated gaze dropped back to her book. Elain went back to cutting the last of the vegetables. The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Nesta felt like she was choking on it as she turned around, coming face to face with her father.

Dressed in a pair of simple black pants and a grey shirt, stumbling into the kitchen with a beer bottle gripped in his hand, Nesta couldn’t tell if he was coming or going. But then again, that was always the case with their father. Ever since their mother passed away, and he took on drinking as a coping mechanism. Ever since he decided to give up. Ever since he decided that using the last of their money on gin was more important than using it on food.

Years later, and he was still the same. Refusing to actually do anything for his family. Leaving day and night, hardly ever being home.

Just looking at him now had Nesta’s seeing red.

“I could say the same about you,” Nesta’s cold voice bit into the air.

Not able to take her father’s gaze or the tension in the room any longer, Nesta simply stomped off down the hallway and into her small bedroom. The slamming of the door echoed off of the walls around her.

She took a moment to take an easy steady breath, but it did little to calm the blood rushing in her ears. The fire of rage burning deep within.

All she wanted was to practice and work hard.  _By herself._  All she wanted was to land that damn jump perfectly so she could up her chances at winning Nationals. That’s all she was asking for. And honestly, it didn’t feel like she was asking much.

Deep down, a part of her did know she was being foolish. She knew she shouldn’t have skated off of the ice. She knew Coach Carver really did know what he was doing. If he believed switching her discipline was the best way for her to score a National title, then Nesta should have just smiled and gone along with it.

But that was the part of herself that Nesta never listened to.

She was Nesta Archeron. She did things her way or no way. She had worked hard to get where she was. She didn’t rely on anyone. The only person she looked out for on the ice was herself; no one else - save for Elain - really mattered to her.

There was no way Nesta Archeron could skate Pairs. Not when the whole concept was about a person opening themselves up. When every ounce of faith and trust was put in the hands of a partner. And especially not when said partner was Cassian.

A frustrated sigh made its way out of Nesta’s lips. She pulled her hair out of its ponytail, running a hand through it as she fell back onto her bed.

They never did get along, her and Cassian. He was always teasing her, testing her patience, and pushing her buttons. Ever since they first met, Nesta wanted to knock him off of his high horse and punch him in his smug face. It was bad enough that she had to see him almost every day at the rink. For Coach Carver to actually pair them up-

“Nesta?” A light knock sounded on the door, followed by Elain’s voice. “Can I come in?”

“Yes.” Nesta sighed once more, the exhaustion from that morning, and the whole day, settling down on her like a ton of bricks.

Elain carefully pushed open the door before closing it softly behind her.

“Who’s cooking dinner?” Nesta raised an eyebrow as Elain sat on the bed across from her.

“I left Feyre in charge. I don’t think she can screw up soup that badly.”

Nesta almost laughed at that. Everyone knew Feyre couldn’t cook to save her life. Somehow, she’d find a way to even burn water.

“I’m assuming he didn’t come home last night?” Nesta nodded her head in the general direction of the kitchen, bitterness in her tone.

Elain let out her own sigh, her finger tracing random patterns on the bed. “He walked in around noon today, falling all over the place. I managed to get him on the couch. He passed out then, only waking up a few minutes before you got home.”

A snort left Nesta’s lips. “Of course.”

She didn’t think she’d ever forgive her father for what he did - for what he was doing. For throwing away all of their money to numb his pain. The pain they all felt, but only he got the luxury to run away from. He was supposed to be the one taking care of them, but if he wouldn’t do that, then she’d take care of herself.

So she threw herself into her skating, dedicating her life to the sport her mother loved dearly. Meanwhile, Feyre worked three jobs to feed their father’s addiction.

Her irritation grew more and more over the years, watching her sister surrender paycheck after paycheck to that vile leech.

And yes, they were finally okay with money. Being professional skaters eased that worry. But still, just thinking about all of it caused anger to flare up deep inside of her.

A beat of silence drifted past them. A silence Nesta couldn’t take. The more silence she sat through, the more irritated she became.

“Do you know what you’re doing about skating yet?” She asked Elain. “You coming back?”

A shrug of her shoulders before Elain sighed, finally looking up.

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “I still have another week or so before I have to let everyone on the executive board know if I’ll be sitting another season out or not.”

“Do you have a reason to take another season off?” Nesta questioned, raising an eyebrow.

It wasn’t unusual for skaters to have off-seasons. A lot of skaters took a season off every once in a while to give their bodies a rest, or spend more time training. But Elain was still a baby in the industry. For her to take two seasons off in a row… Nesta couldn’t understand why.

But Elain didn’t answer her question. She remained silent for a long while. The silence only told Nesta that whatever Elain was thinking, it was something serious.

Before Nesta had a chance to question her more, however, Elain spoke up.

“Did you want to talk about earlier? The discipline change?”

The question caught Nesta a bit off guard, before her blood started to boil once more.

No, she didn’t. Not with Elain. She couldn’t pass that stress to her. Even since they were little, it was always the two of them together while Feyre was more or less off on her own. Over the years, Nesta had become more and more protective of Elain, always wanting to cause her as little stress and pain as possible. That moment was no exception. Especially after seeing how much she had on her plate already with her own skating career, Nesta wasn’t about to add anymore weight on her younger sister’s shoulders.

So she didn’t even bother to answer the question.

With a sigh, Nesta fell back against her pillows, her mind running a mile a minute. The silence around her and Elain was almost deafening, but neither one of them said anything.

After some time, Feyre’s voice drifted down the hall, letting them know that dinner was ready. Elain slowly stood up, casting one look at Nesta before leaving the room.

But Nesta didn’t move. While her mind was racing, her limbs felt heavy. Exhaustion set into her bones. She didn’t have the energy to stand up. Not after the day she had just had.

No, tomorrow she would take action. Tomorrow, she would figure out how she was going to convince Coach Carver what a horrible idea all of this was.

Because she was Nesta Archeron. She was strong and independent. She didn’t need anyone in life to help her get anywhere. Least of all Cassian Guerrero to help her get a National title.

With blood rushing in her ears and a fire in her heart, Nesta slowly fell asleep with a look of complete determination on her face. The last thing she could remember was picturing herself punching Cassian square in his smug face, before blackness took over.

**Author's Note:**

> A new chapter goes up every Sunday on my Tumblr. I'll try and post the chapter here within a few days after its posted on Tumblr. Also, don't be afraid to leave comments, I'd love to hear your feedback!
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr - http://highlady-casandra.tumblr.com


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